


like late summer, they slowly fade away

by ultradespaircomrade



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Another Episode, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: "im not gay but girl pretty!!' - both of them the whole time, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Confessions, Eventual Romance, F/F, Fluff, Internalized Homophobia, Late Night Conversations, Mutual Pining, Nicknames, Useless Lesbians, komaru is a dumbass lesbian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24621208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultradespaircomrade/pseuds/ultradespaircomrade
Summary: essentially toko and komaru pine over each other for one too many chapters. non-despair AU, also this is my first real fic so go easy on me. lotsa headcanons thrown in as well! enjoy
Relationships: Fukawa Touko & Naegi Komaru, Fukawa Touko/Naegi Komaru, Kirigiri Kyoko/Celestia Ludenberg, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Naegi Makoto/Togami Byakuya, Nanami Chiaki/Sonia Nevermind, Tokomaru - Relationship, every ship that isn't tokomaru is minor/background, toukomaru - Relationship
Comments: 20
Kudos: 124





	1. Chapter 1: Ache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> toko is confused and sad and gay

Her drawing of me is still pinned right next to my headboard, an agonizing reminder of her inviting care. I can’t ignore it: I feel safe around her. There’s nothing I want more than to feel the warmth of her embrace as she holds me, my head held close to her beating heart. I wanted to taste her chapstick on her lipstick as we pulled away from a saccharine kiss. Yet it still feels wrong. It feels wrong to imagine her and me. It feels wrong to think of how her lips would feel against mine. It feels wrong. Not bad, but wrong. I shouldn’t think of a girl like that! It wouldn’t matter if she was the prettiest girl on the face of the Earth, it’d still be wrong. 

But… I can’t stop myself from playing around with that possibility in my mind. It’s not even outwardly sexual like it is with Master. Images of us sitting together on a wooden swing, feeding each other candied strawberries as the sun sets. Pushing off a deadline just to look at the stars with her. Making blackberry tea with her on a Tuesday evening. Occasionally, I share fantasies about us with her, but I add footers to the texts to remind her that everything is “platonic”. I don’t want to ruin this. I don’t want to ruin my only lasting friendship. So I’ll keep quiet, admiring her from afar; and boy, do I admire her. I admire every part of her, from the way her eyes lit up when she’d go on rants about her manga, to the way she’d sing to me when I fell asleep on her shoulder. But no matter how much I admire her- no matter how much I love her -I’ll keep quiet. 

I take a short-lived glance at her drawing of me. She portrayed every one of my features better than I’ve ever seen myself. In her drawing, I was beautiful. Every individual line she drew felt softer on my eyes than anything I’d ever written. In her eyes, I was as pretty as her, if not more. God was she wrong in that regard. Still, the thought that she saw me this way made my chest warm and my stomach aflutter. For whatever reason, Komaru thought of me as beautiful. No one had ever seen me as beautiful. No one had ever made me feel as loved as she did. Maybe that was what hurt. Maybe what really hurt was that I’ll let her go without ever pursuing her. But... I won’t share my feelings. Never again. Not after the first time. 

I stir. So much for that “it’s wrong to think of her that way” spiel I went on earlier . For someone I was so opposed to thinking about romantically, I sure am thinking a lot about her beauty. I was right earlier though. I shouldn’t be in love with her. I’m straight. 120% heterosexual. The boy-crazy romance novelist who falls in love with every man who’s even in the slightest bit attractive. But if so, why did it feel so nice to imagine the lingering taste of strawberries on her lips...? Why do my eyes immediately jump to her waist and the way it leads down to her wide hips? Why does her voice sound like music to my ears? Why do I want to fall asleep on her soft thigh as we watch TV late at night? My phone vibrates, bringing my train of thought to a screeching halt. 

2:03 AM  
“hiiiii toki! its late, and i know ur up!!! i just wanted to wish you a good night. love u (no homo)!!!”

Of course it’s from her. It just had to be. As painful as it is to see her right now, I still smiled at the message. Her grammar is atrocious, but the thought is what counts.

2:05 AM  
“You should be going to bed too; our schools both start at the same time, dummy. Anyway, good night, and I love you too.”  
As much as I hate to admit it, I really do take her advice to heart. As I sent the message, my eyes felt heavy. Eventually, I let the heavy feeling in my eyes take over me and I felt myself falling in and out of sleep. Thoughts of Komaru- or anyone, really- drifted away as the darkness engulfed my body. I didn’t dream of anything that night


	2. Chapter 2: Strawberries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more of that shit except its komaru now. also im so sorry chieko ur probably not really homophobic in canon I just need plot drive

“What’s been up with you lately? You’ve seemed… out of it, y’know?” Chieko’s words rang through my head as loudly as the school bell that followed. What has been up with me lately…? I know one thing for sure: I’ve been thinking about her much more than usual. I’d always thought it was normal for friends (that’s what Toko thought of me as, right? She’d never really confirmed it to me, but I assume by now we’re friends) to think about each other like this, but lately I’ve begun to reconsider. The feeling when she held me in her arms was unforgettable, and it sure as hell wasn’t platonic. It was strange for her to be so close to someone physically, but she did out of sympathy. When she held me, my heart started beating faster, and I heard hers do the same. That didn’t happen with friends, did it? It happened with crushes, and lovers. But… I can’t tell Checko. She isn’t going to let this go if I brush it off, but I know I can’t tell her. She’ll hate me, won’t she? Girls aren’t supposed to like other girls that way. That’s what she thinks, at least. Maybe I could just hide some of the truth. It’s not lying to her if I just stay vague, right?

“Well… There’s someone I like, actually.” Her eyes lit up, and her concerned expression was replaced with a wide smile. 

“Who is he? Come on, Koko, tell me all about him!” Her eyes were bright with excitement. I can’t imagine this’d play out the same if she knew who I was really talking about. “What do you like about him?”

“Ah, well… They’re pretty smart, and they have nice hair.”

‘C’mon, is that it?” She looked unsatisfied. 

“S-no, he’s, uh-” I stumbled over my words, trying desperately not to utter the word “she”. “He’s caring, but he doesn’t really show it often. He wrote a story for me once, actually!” I scratched at my cheek and forced a smile. As much as I hated lying to her, I knew this was necessary. Chieko was wonderful, but she didn’t have the most inclusive beliefs in the world. 

“Ooh, romantic!” It seems she bought into the lie. “Do you think he likes you back?” Chieko looked up at me with a puzzled expression. 

“Actually, he likes someone else it seems,” I paused to ignore the sharp pang in my heart. “But they’re not together or anything! The other person… doesn’t like him back.”  
“That’s a weird situation,” she slung her bag over her shoulder. “Well, I guess there’s nothing to worry about, then. Bye, Koko!” 

“B-bye, Checko!” I waved to her before letting out a heavy sigh. I hated lying to her like that. Then again, I’m not sacrificing her or Toko’s friendships. Both are important to me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to nurture my friendship with the both of them. Even if it means ignoring my feelings for Toko, I’ll ignore it to protect them. Always.

I walk out of the classroom, plugging my earphones in. I perform my usual routine: pick a playlist that fits my mood, press shuffle, then scroll through my phone for a bit. Jenny by Studio Killers, eh? Oddly fitting for what just happened. I hum as I cross the street. Soon enough, I’m at my house.

“I’m home,” I yell out to the walls. Makoto sits on the sofa drinking a bottle of strawberry ramune from the fridge. A notebook titled “literature - period 5” is resting on his lap. “Mom said the ramune was mine!” I huffed, frustrated. I hit him, playfully, before grabbing a book from the shelf.

“Your fault for coming home late.” He took another sip before writing something down hurriedly.

He furrows his brow as he stares at the notebook. He erases something from the top of his paper and groans, annoyed. 

“Literature?” Each and every Wednesday afternoon, he does literature homework; and each and every time he does it, he’s always confused in one way or another. Not my problem. In fact, it’s quite the opposite: after a while, he calls Toko to help, and he, after being essentially tutored by her for about 15 minutes, he hands the phone to me. As if on beat, I see him dial a number and greet her. I can hear her scolding him from here.

I pick up the book from my lap. The cover is decorated in roses and lilies, the spine a vivid plum color. A girl sits on a throne, a silver goblet in her hand. As soon as I see it, I recognize it: it’s the book she’d written for me a couple months ago. I’d drawn her, and she saw it fit to write me something. I told her it wasn’t necessary, but she simply shook her head and went back to typing. It felt like too much, but I treasured it nonetheless. Every word she wrote was perfect and sent chills down my spine. She’s not an ultimate for nothing, that’s for sure. I don’t know how many times I’ve read this. Every time I feel down, I read this, reminding myself of what she had made for me. At times, I wonder if my drawing brings her the same feeling. I wonder if she feels the same warmth in her heart knowing someone made something beautiful just for them. I wonder if her heart feels as fluttery knowing she inspired me enough to make something this wonderful. Not that my art could even begin to compare to her writing, but the point still remains. Reading this, even after what must have been a million times, it still fills me with the same tenderness as before. The first time I read it, I teared up. Knowing she made this only fills me with even more pain though; she made this with entirely platonic intent, and I know that. No matter how much warmth it fills me with- no matter how much warmth SHE fills me with- she’ll always be so far from my grasp. In love with someone who’s not even the same gender as me. My eyes begin to sting, and I bite my lip to stop myself from whimpering. I blink back tears and exhale softly. Makoto’s voice pulls me out of my entranced state.

“Ah, Toko wants to talk to you.” Makoto put the phone in my hand. I closed my book and shook the thoughts out of my head.

Guess I’ll have more time to sulk later.


	3. Chapter 3: Unease

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ruh roh shaggy

My eyes felt heavy.  _ Jesus christ, what happened yesterday? I’m never this tired.  _ I racked my brain for answers. I didn’t start going to parties or something, did I? I racked my brain (which was still doused in a drowsy haze from lack of sleep) for answers. As my head cleared, I came back to real life, and furthermore realized that someone was, in fact, yelling at me in real life.

“You’re gonna be late, dummy.” Wow, starting the chapter late for school? What am I, a shoujo protagonist? Maybe I am, and this is all a weird dream. I chuckle a bit to myself. The voice hit me in the arm. I guess not.

“Alright, alright, I’m up,” Makoto stared at me impatiently as I slugged myself out of bed. I rubbed my eyes and sighed loudly. Making my way to the kitchen, he followed me, nagging at me the whole way there.

“Stop staying up so late talking to Toko! You were up until 4 AM!  _ On a school night! _ ” 

“I know, I know,” I shoved cereal into my mouth. Good thing I slept in my school clothes last night, or I’d have to eat on my way there. Then I’d be acting like even  _ more  _ of a shoujo protagonist! 

“You’re not seriously going to school like that, are you?” He put on his shoes before shooting me a look from across the room.

“What’s wrong with this?” It seemed fine to me!

“It’s from yesterday. You haven’t washed it in two days!” Oh right, that. I shrugged, slinging my bag over my shoulder. I yawned and made my way out the door. The sky was clouded and grey today; Toko mentioned it’d rain later today. If she’s given the chance, she can rant as much as I do at times, and a couple of the rare positive rants have been about rain, and cold weather overall. That reminds me: we had made plans for later this week! The forecasts said it’d be raining all week, so I thought it’d be nice to go out later. Often, she’d say that it was ‘too bright’ or there were ‘too many people’ and would just ask to come over. In respect for her and her troubles with other people, I’d always just settle for my room. Although I love having her over, I’d also love to actually be outside with her. I didn’t always understand her worries either. Though… if Toko could try to understand my life and point of view for my sake, I could try to understand her issues for hers. Sometimes I wonder why she chose to be friends with me instead of someone like my brother. At least he has a talent. Sure, maybe I draw sometimes, but she was so much more than me. Toko doubts her skills, but everything she writes, whether it be for me or some publisher behind a work desk, is beautiful. Everything she writes is as beautiful as she is.  _ Jeez, that’s corny.  _ It seems her type of language is starting to rub off on me the more I talk to her. I push those thoughts to the back of my mind as I approach the grassy path near the school gate. I take out my headphones and toss them in my bag. Chieko was seemingly waiting for me, idly standing at the gate. I raised my hand to greet her, but quickly brought it down when I saw her face. She stared at me, stern and cold, her hands behind her back. My heart dropped.

“We need to talk. Meet me in room 324 after school.” Her shoes clacked loudly as she walked away. I gulped. My head was filled with worries, my stomach twisting into knots. _It’s something normal, right? Me and Toko are just friends, and I’ve never posted anything. The only people who have known about my crush or even my sexuality are myself and Makoto’s classmate Kirigiri._ See? There’s nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing. It’ll all be fine!

Right...?

Time moved agonizingly slow that day, putting a film of unease over my mind. The lunch bell rang loudly. The day is, at last, half over. It’ll be okay, right? The end of the day will be fine. She probably just dug up something embarrassing from middle school or something. We were friends then, so if she found something from my old accounts, it’d make sense. A sigh escaped me. I walked out of the room, my lunch gripped tightly in my hands. 

My appetite was nearly nonexistent. After a couple minutes, I began to pick at my food absentmindedly. I tried to at least eat some rice, but the knot in my stomach proved that to be a futile attempt. From the corner of my eye, I saw a figure staring at me. A boy from a neighboring table was staring at me, a concerned expression on his face. I hid my face and shoved food into my mouth. I looked back at the table. His eyes lingered near our table for a minute before he shrugged and joined his friend playing a game on his phone. Once again, I let out a long, exhausted sigh.

The final bell of the day rang.  _ Finally!  _ Well, I wasn’t exactly excited, but you get the point. A couple friends walked up to me, offering a ride home. While it seemed appealing to skip this whole ordeal, I knew Chieko wouldn’t be happy with me if I did. She knew when I was lying (at least, most of the time, that is) and wouldn’t hesitate to call me out if I was. Plus, if she really has found out, I’d want to get this done as quickly as possible. 

I walked down the hall, my bag heavy on my shoulders. My grip on the straps on my bag tightened as I approached the door.  _ 320, 322, 323… Ah, there it is.  _ I exhaled heavily before turning the doorknob. Sure enough, there she was, sitting at her desk, gripping her phone tightly in her hands. Her phone case was a bright, translucent red, and a keychain dangled from it. That wasn’t what I was turning my attention to, however; on her phone screen, there was a chat log. 

“A… chat log?” I looked at her, puzzled. What was she so upset about. Chieko rolled her eyes and brought the chat long close to my face.

I scanned the chat log. A name caught my eye. Toko’s. The one on the other side of the chat seemed stern and serious, though she was reassuring. I scrolled through the log, my attention glued to the various times Toko was mentioned. Then it hit me: this was when I told Kirigiri about Toko. I had heard she had a girlfriend in Makoto’s class, and I was wondering if what I felt for Toko was platonic or not. She assured me that these were, in fact, romantic feelings; however she made sure I knew that in itself was alright. Kirigiri was always awfully firm and a bit cold, but she seemed sweet under her hard shell. It was nice to talk to someone else who liked girls like I did about Toko, too! Afterwards, I promised to thank her with coffee for helping. I really need to do that sometime, don’t I? 

“Stop spacing out and tell me what the hell this means! I thought you weren’t one of  _ them.  _ I thought you were normal, Komaru.” I looked back up at Chieko, who was glaring at me sternly. It took me a second to take in everything. My eyes widened at her as I realized what this situation really entailed.

Oh no. Oh god.


	4. Chapter 4: Stuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> going through some shit atm so I wrote some sad toko shit!! she is yearning again.

I stared at the pile of clothes on my bed. I never really went out unless it was for school or if I REALLY needed to, so I didn’t have much to work with. Komaru only just asked me yesterday, so it’s not like I would’ve already had clothes bought for this. That didn’t stop me from looking, and it sure as hell didn’t mellow my frustration around it. Why was I so invested in what she thinks, anyway? It’s not like this was a date. We’re just friends going to a cafe together. Nothing more, nothing less. Plus, I’m not even entirely sure she likes girls! Though… I’ve never heard her talk about boys, and there WAS a flag up in her room. Maybe she just likes the aesthetic.

I sit on my bed, letting out a weighted sigh. I’ve tried for so long to convince myself that the both of us were straight. So many nights have I tried to convince myself that my lack of prior experience was the reason for these feelings. That I wouldn’t actually enjoy a relationship with a girl, that all my longing for her was fake. Talking to her on the phone yesterday sealed the final nail in the coffin; I might be a bit confused, but I’m not an idiot. My feelings for her are the type of thing I’d gush over in my novels. Now that I think about it, I could probably write about her pretty easily. I mean, I already have in the past; I’ve written an entire novel almost entirely centered around her, but I changed up a couple things to avoid suspicion, both from readers and from her. I based the novel off her idea, and based the love interest almost entirely off her. I accredit the fact she never noticed this to the painful density of the Naegi siblings. This was still when I convinced myself my love was platonic, mind you.

My heart hurt when I thought about both of the Naegis, actually. Why I ache when I think of Komaru is obvious (though it certainly didn’t feel that way when I first felt it) but the pain is more akin to a pang of jealousy with Makoto. I’m far less oblivious when it’s others’ relationships. I could see the way Master looked at him. I could tell he yearned for him the same way I do for Komaru. I could tell. Doesn’t stop me from hating it. The last thing I want is to have to actually come to terms with the fact I’m unlovable: with Togami, I could pretend that everything was out of love. He was treating me as I deserved to be treated because he loved me. That’s what I told myself, at least. That’s the key difference between Komaru and Togami: Master treats me as I deserve to be treated, while Komaru treats me as I long to be treated. She cares for me, and though it’s only platonic, she loves me. Unlike everyone else, Komaru loved me. It hurt that her love didn’t manifest itself the same as mine did, but it still felt nice just to have someone feel like that towards me, no matter what form those feelings took. That’s exactly why I can’t tell her: this is one of the best things I’ve ever had. I’ve had love handed to me, gently and carefully. Even if I pushed her away at first, even if I’m not always the best at showing her I care; I need to do my best to nurture the love that she’s handed to me. I can’t ruin it by sharing my feelings. Although it hurts to keep admiring her from the background, I’ll endure it. Heartache is a feeling I’ve been familiar with my whole life. But this time, my heartache isn’t without reward. The softness in her voice when she compliments me, the way her eyes light up when she talks about certain things, even something as simple as the way she brushes her bangs to the side when she’s focused; they’re all small rewards for my aching. Rewards for all that I’ve endured that allow me a warm and comforting happiness I’ve been so relentlessly denied all my life. Maybe it does hurt, but what would hurt more than anything would be losing her. Losing the one person who’s bothered to try with me would be worse than anything I’ve ever endured. 

Tears prick my eyes. Though I know I’m just protecting what she gave me, both options are still painful. The idea of letting my feelings for her go is an idea I never want to entertain, but neither is ruining our bond. Plus, there’s no way she feels the same! Even if she does, there’s so many better options for her. She’s pretty. She probably has people flirting with her every day, whether she realizes it or not. I’m so many steps down from her league that I doubt she’s ever thought of me that way, even as a mere thought in passing. Still, it seems that both paths are painful - granted, one more than the other - and I’m stuck. Stuck between offering her my whole heart or forcing myself to be content with a small section of her heart. It wasn’t an unfamiliar pain, but it was an intense pain nonetheless. For the first time in a while, I let myself cry. I wish I didn’t feel this, but more than anything, I wish she was here. I wish Komaru was here. I wish she would comfort me. She’s only seen me cry once, but she allowed me to cry and did her best to comfort me. She didn’t yell at me, she didn’t hit me, she simply sat there, my hand in hers as she consoled me. Even if I had to hide my reason for crying, even if I had to lie for her sake, I still just wanted to feel her soft touch. To hear her whispers of reassurance. I sob loudly into my hands. 

For longer than I should’ve, I weeped aimlessly, letting everything I’d felt lately pour out of me. Admittedly, I needed that, but that didn’t change the fact that I looked  _ awful.  _ My eyes were puffy and bloodshot, still squinting as they adjusted to the bright light of my bathroom. My hair was disheveled and my breath was still unsteady. I should clean myself up. I steadied my breath and cooled my face off. I couldn’t stand having the water splashed against my face, and normally had to wet a towel and press it against my face. Tonight was no exception.

I count the tallies on my thigh, exposed by the large tear in my shorts. 37.

Not one of the men she’d tallied had made me feel as intensely as Komaru has. A morbid thought, but a telling one.


	5. Chapter 5: Sorrowful Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more sad shit!! but this time, it has a happy ending and they have Soft and Tender Moments™ together. they still oblivious

“Ugh…” What in hell’s name was  _ she  _ doing? I fucking front and I’m already filled with deep dread. Not to mention the sharp pangs of pain in my head. A journal is thrown on the table where she was sitting before she switched. For a while, me and her have used this journal to communicate, starting a couple months ago when she claimed her 24th tally. This time, it was thrown particularly recklessly, the spine a bit torn and the pen all the way on the other side of the room. There’s pepper sprinkled in my hands as well. I wipe my hands on my skirt. Normally I would’ve brushed it off as just Syo’s aggressiveness, but… combined with my current emotional state and my head, I can tell this isn’t good. 

I open the journal, and hastily flip to the point we’d left off, marked with a dark purple ribbon (which had nearly been ripped in half). The writing is messy and rushed, and it becomes utterly incoherent by the end. 

“are you fucking kidding me? no seriously are you fucking kidding me? did you fuck this up on purpose like the third guy, or are you just stupid? dekomaru isn’t responding to anything and that egg bitch that obviously fucks master every other week said her door is locked and he can hear her crying. you did something, didnt you miss fucking morose?? and i KNOW you’ll fuckin pin this on me so dont even try it bitch

i cant believe you fucked thjs up like everything els you do she was rhe 1 thing we had and you jst had to

fuck it nevrminb” A puddle of ink lays right at the end of her rant. I… did something? She’s the one who probably fucked this up! She’s a fucking serial killer, goddamnit! I’m repulsed by the fact that she’d even  **dare** to blame me for this. Also, Jesus Christ she’s immature! Blaming everything on me just because I’m closer to Komaru? That’s pathetic. Moreover, why wasn’t she responding...? I picked up my phone and read through the texts. Everything was along the lines of “please respond”, the later messages noticeably more frantic and desperate. What caught my eye was moreso the fact that she hadn’t read any of them; they weren’t even delivered. Did her phone get stolen? Was my phone not working? Did she get hurt? Oh god, please don’t tell me she got hurt. I honestly don’t know if I could handle that. 

I search my mind for any comfort, trying to imagine what sort of advice  _ she’d _ give me in this situation.  _ C-calm down, Toko! Her phone probably just ran out of power!  _ She’s right. But didn’t Komaru always say she never lets her phone run out of power? She had mentioned she always made sure it was on. Her parents told her to always keep it on in case of emergencies. Plus, Makoto did say she was crying. I bury my face in my hands. I know she’s probably alright, but something irks me. We’ve always talked about our struggles to each other, and we’ve always comforted and cheered each other up when either of us were upset. Well, maybe not every time. But still! If this was really that bad, maybe I should leave her alone...? But she’s never been unresponsive to texts. Even when I’d seen her in her worst states, she’d still responded to my texts and calls. No, I’m just assuming things. I look through my call history. It looks like Syo had tried to call her to no avail. 37 times though? That’s a bit excessive.

Alright, calm down. Let’s just try to text her again. Maybe she was just scared of Syo? She can be quite pushy at times, not to mention the fact that she’s literally a serial killer. I don’t think anyone would respond if a well known serial killer called you nearly 40 times. With trembling hands, I type in my passcode, already on my messaging app. I 

_ 9:42 PM _

“Hey, it’s Toko again. I’m really sorry if Syo was pushy. Please respond at your earliest convenience.” Jesus, have I always been this formal? I sound like a grandma. Whatever.

10 minutes pass. Then 20. Then 30. The knot in my stomach, previously untangled, begins to reform. Fuck it, I’m going to check on her. I  _ need _ to check on her. I know her well enough to know that this isn’t normal. Komaru clearly isn’t okay. She’s not okay.  _ She’s not okay.  _ She’s not.

I try to dial Makoto’s number, but my hands are shaking heavily, my vision clouded with tears. Why is everything going wrong  _ now?  _ After about 7 tries and 3 wrong numbers, I finally managed to contact him. 

“Hello?” That goddamn idiot. You know perfectly well why I’m calling, don’t you? You’re her fucking brother, after all.

“H-hi,” my voice sounds wounded and choked, even on my end. 

“Wait, are you crying? What’s going on?”

“Can you get me a ride to your house?” Please don’t ask me why, just agree, please--

“Why?” I swear to god.

“Just fucking agree! I-I just need this, alright?!” Yeah, Makoto, give me a ride to your house for the low price of me opening up to you entirely! While you’re at it, why don’t I tell you I’m into your sister? That’ll go down nicely.

“I-I don’t know where you live! Plus, shouldn’t you have a license by now?” 

“Komaru said you wet the bed until you were 11. Shouldn’t you have grown out of it by then?”

“H-hey! That’s too mean! Also you didn’t answer my question!”

“We can just m-meet up somewhere.” Dumbass.

“O-okay then, jeez! Where do you want me to meet?” 

“Jabberwock Park on 7th street.” I hung up swiftly. This was going to be a strange car ride.

\----------------

I sat in his car. There was an awkward (yet very much preferred on my end) silence as he drove us. His expression was genuinely concerned, his mouth opening to say something multiple times. He never seemed to be able to choke anything out, though. I checked for their neighborhood out the window, tapping my foot impatiently. Thankfully, we were already pretty close. Makoto's guise took a full 180 as we approached his driveway. He looked me dead in the eyes, a surprised look on his face, as if he’d come to some sort of sudden realization. 

“This whole thing… This is about Komaru, isn’t it?” 

“Y-you figured it out, genius,” for the first time in a while, I was too worried to be sarcastic. Nevertheless, I tried. “O-of course it’s about K-komaru.”

He paused. “Thank you.” This took me by surprise. I’d never actually heard him be that sincere, but I suppose it fit nicely in a time like this. My boots hit the wet asphalt as I stepped out of the car, splashing a bit in a puddle of rain. Was it raining before we started driving? That’s not the important thing here, though. As soon as I opened the door, I began to walk swiftly down the hall, not wasting any time. No matter how fast I moved, however, my stomach still wound itself tighter and tighter as I approached her door. A cluster of empty soda cans was placed haphazardly on the dresser near her door. I should throw those away later.  _ Stop getting distracted!  _ My thoughts are right: I need to actually talk to her. 

“Hey, Komaru? It’s me, Toko.” She didn’t speak, but I heard something shuffle a bit from the other side of the door. I waited for her to open the door, but a deafening silence pursued. My stomach tightened the knot inside itself.

“Please let me in,” a lump began to form in my throat. I took a deep breath before continuing. “I-I just want to talk to you. You’re… you’re really worrying me.” She let out a muffled groan. “P-please,” My hand rested on the door, my tone soft and wounded. Yet again, the knot tightened. The silence was suffocating me.

“F-fine.” Her voice genuinely surprised me. The door opened slowly. Her face was blotchy, her eyes red and puffy. She still had her school uniform on, though the skirt was hiked up, her tie loose around her neck and half untied. Her arm gripped her forearm tightly as she stared at me with a shameful expression. For once, I noticed my immediate need to be assertive; I took her hand and sat her down on her bed, sitting parallel to her. Our fingers were still intertwined as we stared intently at each other. I softened my gaze, the aforementioned gaze deepening. They were glazed with tears. As they searched mine, she fell into my chest, sobbing loudly. My hands started to clench up at the sudden contact, but I relaxed them hesitantly. _No._ _I need to be there, even if I’m uncomfortable. I know she’d do the same for me._ I stroked her hair, my grip tense at first, but becoming softer and more tender as I heard her cries.

“M-my friend,” she buried her face in my chest even deeper. “Sh-she,” I ran my hand through her hair. “I-I c-can’t--” I hushed her.

“Y-you don’t have to tell me now. I-I haven’t told you everything about me, you know?” I swallowed my saliva, desperately trying to keep the lump in my throat low. 

“Don’t worry about t-telling me immediately. God knows I don’t tell you everything at first. T-take your time.” She placed her hand on my shoulder, not daring to raise her head from it’s spot in my chest. My hand separated from hers to clasp over the one on my shoulder. I caressed her hand softly. When I parted my lips to speak again, it took me a few tries to get a proper sentence out. Komaru waited patiently, however, wrapping her arm around my waist as I stumbled over the words. After several attempts, I finally got something coherent out.

“W-whatever happened, I know it’s probably painful from your reaction. S-so… knowing that, I can say that this is t-temporary, you know? You’ll feel pain, a-and probably regret some too… But you’ll look back a-and realize how strong you are for toughing it out in the future. So push through, b-both for me a-and for future you. I-I’ll help as well, whenever you need it. I-I know that’s nauseatingly sappy and u-unlike me, but I mean it. E-even if I haven’t experienced it, I’ll listen when you’re ready to t-tell me, and for the time being, I’ll let you cry, okay? Y-you’ll be okay, even if your mind is convincing you won’t be. E-e-even if you c-can’t resolve things with your friend, even if it’s not a-alright for a while...” I paused, reconnecting our hands before continuing with shaky breath. “Everything will be okay eventually. A-and you’ll grow from this.” Her sobs grew quiet, albeit more muffled. I groaned loudly at her stubbornness.

“G-geez, do I really have to do it?” Komaru’s head perked up. 

“What’s ‘i-it’?” As she spoke, her voice quivered, her tone still weakened from tears. I noticed her hair had become disheveled and frizzy after being buried in my shirt for so long. Stifling a laugh, I stared back down to her.

After a couple moments, I leaned in, planting a tender yet nervous kiss on her forehead. “T-that. That’s ‘it’. N-no homo though.” She giggled a bit at the last part. She placed her hand on my cheek and began to stroke my face carefully. My face flushed as I reluctantly removed her hand.

“S-sorry, I-I’m not good with spoken words, s-so I j-just-” She cut me off.

“No, Toko.” I looked at her, puzzled. “That was… that was perfect. Thank you.” I grasped her hand tighter, staring deeply into her light green eyes. They were still red-rimmed and quite puffy, but they were beautiful nonetheless. Still wrapped in a thin film of lingering sorrow, but that sorrow drowned out by the wondrous vibrancy in her iris. Her expression was one of deep care. Care for me, care for the world, even newfound care for herself. That was something I loved about her: no matter what, she always cared. At least for those close to her.  _ Especially  _ for those close to her. 

When everyone else shied away from even being around me, she endured through my prickly exterior. For weeks, she worked her ass off just to break down the wall I put up. Success found her after about a month of tries. After that point, talking to each other became a vital part of our routines, each other's voice becoming a genuine comfort for one another. 

“C-can I stay the night?” I sure as hell didn’t want to go back home to my moms tonight. Komaru’s head faced the ground for a minute, her tear-stained face brightened by her smile. I swear for a brief moment, I can sense a sense of yearning in her eyes when our gazes reconnect. She paused to giggle at my question.

“What’s so funny?” I glared at her, skeptical.

“You don’t even have to ask,” she said those words like they were obvious. A light blush rushed to my cheeks in embarrassment.

“Your bed?”

“Of course!” 


	6. not exactly a chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not a real chapter, an authors note

hi!! author here. I'm very sorry for not uploading. a lot is going on in my life and I haven't had the motivation to upload much. expect one later today or tomorrow though! :)

also!! the upcoming chapters will have a lot of fluff, since im using writing to cope and to find comfort now. I might make a few one shots of either soniaki, celesgiri, or tokomaru that'll be angst. those ones will be vents most likely.

thank you so much for enjoying my story. i love you all and hope you enjoy the chapters to come. bye for now!!!


	7. Chapter 6: Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the hiatus!!! it became really hard to find the motivation to write, but i've finally found the drive to post again and it'll become far more consistent again. also something pretty big is happening in a couple chapters so look out for that

My eyes felt tired from last night. I had been crying ever since I got home yesterday, probably harder than I had ever cried before. It hurt, definitely, but I did get to see the softer side of Toko for once. It's nice to see that side of her; and it's certainly nice when she holds me the way she did yesterday. She’d been hurt a lot though, so I think I understand why she hides the more vulnerable parts of her. Still, I wish I could see it more often. Speaking of her, she’s beside me right now, holding onto my waist and breathing softly. I may or may not have been about to throw her across the room believing she was a plush from my collection. I tend to do that in the morning: I have more plushies than I’d like to admit, and most of them are in my bed. Additionally, some of them aren’t that comfortable when they're huge and pressed onto your side, so sometimes I just throw them at the wall and go back to sleep. I'm glad I didn't actually throw her though. That wouldn't have been good. I sit up, stretching. Toko stirs beside me.

  
  


“Mmmmnnh…” She rubs her eyes before staring back up at me. “What time is it….?”

“8 AM! ...You don’t wake up until later, do you?” She shakes her head. “An hour or two more…” Toko buries her head into my pillow. I sigh, slinging my legs over the bed. Toko latches onto my shirt, pulling me back and shaking her head softly. I have to admit, she’s cute in the early mornings. Not to talk down on her at any other time of day, though.

“Oh! You don’t have to get up, you can just stay in bed longer if you want,” she groans, grabbing more of my shirt and pulling it back to her with all the strength she can muster. “S-stay here…” Her tone was honeyed and soft. I sit down, feeling the weight on the beg shift in my favor. I lie back on the bed and look down, face to face with Toko. Smooth, pale skin thrives in the morning suns embrace. The blanket stops at the gentle curvature of her hip, splayed out messily from the long night of rest. Her lips are bitten and bruised, but something tells me they'd taste like blackberries and vanilla. There's nothing I want more than to lean in and press my own lips against hers; to treat her lips and her body better than she can manage to do. I simply sit, staring at her; a sense of yearning echoes through my heart. Her eyelashes begin to flutter open, and I quickly rush under the covers with her. Toko stirs: I stay in place. After settling, she wraps her arms around me, moving her head close to mine. Her chest is pressed against my back.

Our hearts begin to beat in unison as we lie with each other, a gentle lullaby that allows me to float back to sleep gently. 

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

The desk is mahogany, and it matches the chairs perfectly. Exactly 19 lights were in the entire house, including the bathroom, closets, and pantry. Yet no matter how many lights I count or how many times I pace around my house, I can’t manage to tackle the task at hand. That being telling Makoto how I feel about Toko. It had never been difficult to tell him anything, so what was going on now? I know I’m scared of something, but I’m still not sure on what.

Maybe I’m scared he’ll be mean to Toko when I’m not there? No, I know him better than to do that. If he’s upset with people he almost never expresses it. He keeps quiet, usually wishing to not cause them an inconvenience. But, then again, I’m not around him all the time. He might be rude and cold when family isn't there. I doubt it though.

Should I even tell him? Why does Makoto need to know? I mean, we do inform each other about everything (well, almost everything) in our lives, but why? To be perfectly honest, he’ll probably end up finding out anyway. If Toko likes me back (which probably won’t be the case, I’m pretty far out of her league) I’ll probably start gushing about her and reveal it in an instant. If she doesn’t, I’ll be fairly distraught, and he always knows when I’m down. It’s a sort of familial instinct we have. If he’s going to find out anyway, I don’t really see a point in hiding it.

“Alright! I’m going to tell him about Toko!” I look myself in my bathroom mirror and smile to myself. Hyping myself up like this has been easier since I met Toko. Although she tries to hide it, I can tell she cares about me and my own self image. Sometimes I wish she gave that same care to herself; no matter how long we’re friends, she never seems to like who she is and fails to take care of herself constantly. Regardless, I should focus on how I’m going to tell Makoto about this. Should I be subtle about it or direct? I feel like I should be direct about it. Dragging it out longer is just going to cause embarrassment and confusion on both parties. Maybe I shouldn’t think too much about it either way: if I just let it out without much thinking, maybe I’ll have less hesitation regarding this whole ordeal. It’s even worse I think in this sort of language now; I can hear bits of Toko’s vocabulary entering my own, and I’m sure he’s taken notice of this by now. My hands grip the edges of the sink tightly, and I stare at my face. Nervousness plagues my expression. If I get out of the bathroom looking like this, he’ll definitely be concerned. I splash cold water on my face. Alright. You can do this, Komaru. Or maybe I should be more enthusiastic. This is my internal monologue, and you only get one per lifetime. Then, in that case: you can do this, Komaru! That’s more appropriate. A knock on the door interrupts my thinking. I jump. 

“Hey, Komaru? You alright in there?” Did it really have to be Makoto right now?

“Y-yeah! Just a minute!” Makoto’s footsteps get quieter and quieter until I’m finally met with silence. I let out a deep sigh before drying my face and making my way to the living room. He’s sitting there, drinking a bottle of soda and staring at his phone. I sit down next to him. Even if I’ve agreed not to think too much about this, maybe I should prepare myself a little first nonetheless. I pull out my DS from my pocket. I’ll play whatever’s there, I guess; it’s just a way to occupy my mind for a bit. “Project Mirai DX”... I forgot I had this one. Still running through the consequences of this future interaction in my mind, I start playing through a song. As it plays, I hum the tune. Despite the fast paced nature of the game, my mind begins to relax. I’m still worried about something happening to Toko… She’ll be alright though. Her and Syo are strong. Whether they believe it or not, they’re strong. It won’t faze either of them. Or so I hope. 

Closing my DS, I face him. 

“I need your advice on something.” Makoto looks back at me, puzzled.

“If this is about how to perfect that skeleton song on hard mode again, I can’t help you. It was already hard enough when you made me play it on easy.” Shaking my head, I huff loudly.

“Then what is it?”

“I....” I start to regret this. What if he hates Toko after this? What if he stops letting her come over, or sleep in my bed? It’s too late to back out now, though. I take a deep breath in, and his expression of confusion deepens. A hint of concern joins his face too.

“I’vefalleninlovewithoneofyourclassmates,” the words come out a garbled mess. Makoto looks concerned.

“Slow down, I can’t understand…”

“I-I’ve, um, fallen in love with one of your classmates.” My eyes shut instinctively.

“Komaru what do you- which one?”

“T-toko. I’ve fallen in love with Toko, and I don’t know what to do.” His eyes widen in surprise.


End file.
